


Green Binder

by grantaire_the_cynic



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:57:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4091317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantaire_the_cynic/pseuds/grantaire_the_cynic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://strippertaire.tumblr.com/post/70032981533/enjolras-slowly-falling-for-grantaire-and-having">Strippertaire</a> Enjolras slowly falling for Grantaire and having no idea what to do about it. So he basically does what he does best, and that is he writes speeches. He writes speeches on every feeling and physical effect Grantaire has on him on paper and in a speech format because that’s how he’s dealing with expressing his emotions and the speeches are complicated and almost having that romantic poetry sort of feel if Enjolras was better with that sort of stuff and he keeps the speeches away from everyone. But then Grantaire finds them. </p>
<p><a href="http://strangerockandroller.tumblr.com/post/70260157392/strippertaire-enjolras-slowly-falling-for">strangerockandroller</a>but what if it never explicitly says grantaire’s name and the person in the letters is described as amazing and wonderful and grantaire assumes its someone else and tries to distance himself from enjolras.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green Binder

The binder started as an accident. A joke suggestion from Courfeyrac the first time Enjolras lamented the fact he couldn’t figure out what to do about his feelings for Grantaire.

But it turned out to be a great idea. Well, at first. He could work out all of his feelings on paper, just like when he prepared his speeches. It was organic- his pen on the paper-a direct line to his brain. No audience, no pressure, nothing permanent.

It was all fine until about two months (“Two months?? Enj you’ve been putting this off for two months?? Are you fucking crazy? You never procrastinate! You better go talk to him!” Courfeyrac said, smacking the back of his head.) later when the Amis were all in Enjolras’ apartment for their monthly board game tournament.

“You can’t upgrade your castle unless you are a level three knight!” Bahorel almost shouted.

“All you need is the money, the space, and the level three build action!” Courfeyrac shot back. “Right Feuilly?”

“Fucked if I know, I don’t play that shit.” Feuilly said, looking up from his intense game of Chess with Combeferre. “I have enough trouble with this game. What ever happened to Jenga?”

“R happened to it.” Enjolras said, not looking up from his phone where he was trying to find the rules.

“Drunk Jenga is the best Jenga. Enj, where are the instructions that came with it?”

“In my game binder- it’s green and on my bookshelf in my room.” he said. Grantaire got up to fetch it.

“I’ll put an end to this debate.Two minutes.” he said disappearing into Enjolras’ bedroom.

He looked over the bookshelf- which had two shelves full of binders. Most of them were white or black, a couple red ones, but there were two green ones next two each other.

“The dark green or the light green?” he called out. No answer. Of course, they probably couldn’t hear him. Grantaire shrugged and grabbed the dark green one. He opened it up and started reading the top sheet before realizing that it wasn’t the game rules. But he couldn’t stop reading.

“We all know there are moments in our lives when everything we thought we knew changes. Or everything we thought we knew about a topic. Sometimes these moments are profound: a breakthrough in research, an epiphany while writing a novel or poem, a new brush technique. Sometimes they are a new prospective: after you travel, after you meet someone new, after someone challenges everything you believe in (which is less annoying than you would think, trust me, I know) and debates with you constantly.

Well, that’s how it began for me. I thought that the person I fell in love with was going to be someone who was serious and driven, and probably a workaholic, but instead he is funny, charming, but no less driven (when he wants to be). He is extremely intelligent: I have to constantly watch myself to keep up. He has a unique way of thinking unlike anyone I’ve ever debated with.

And that has changed my attitude on love. It’s not a formula. It’s not a list of features like when you buy a car or a house. It’s organic, ever changing, and something that you should not take too seriously.

So Enjolras was in love. Grantaire paled. He always knew it was a long shot, but this seemed like the last nail. He turned the page.

There are many layers to people. Many things to learn, to discover. Every day is a new adventure, ladies and gentlemen. I never realized how much you can learn about a person when you are around them. It’s different than your friends. With your friends, when you discover something new you almost don’t realize that you hadn’t known, but with someone you’re in love with, it’s like every new discovery is a gift. Sometimes it’s a mixed blessing, but always a gift.

The only downside is that this seems to be the only area where I lose my voice. I want to tell him everything. How smart he is. How funny he is. how he can cheer anyone up with little effort- it’s just his way. I want to articulate this, but for some reason this topic turns my so called "silver tongue” to lead. Though, by writing these ‘speeches’, I feel like I am getting closer every day.

So this is the third speech and I still haven’t worked up the nerve to talk to him. And it’s not like me at all. Of course, these short speeches aren’t me either, but we all have those things that go against our character and makes us question why we’re so conflicted.

I wonder if you guys have ever met a person so wonderful they take your breath away? Because I am about ninety percent sure that I have. I’m sure you can tell, this is not my normal style of speech. one of my friends said that I have been almost giddy recently. Something that I can assure you is very out of character. Though, I do not think I’ve been giddy, unless you classify it as smiling more and daydreaming a tad bit.

So I’ve decided that I should probably stop beating around the bush and talk to him, but I have to admit, I’m slightly intimidated. I know it sounds crazy. “How can you be intimidated, Enjolras? You do public speaking all the time.” But it’s different- I probably won’t interact with you guys again, but if I mess this up, I could push him away. Such is life, right? I suppose soon I’ll tell him, I can’t keep it pent up forever. Especially since I’m known for my “fits of passion”. And how could I help it? Aside from being insanely attractive, he’s smart, passionate (despite his efforts to hide it), and loves his friends like there’s no tomorrow. I only hope I don’t make a fool of myself.

He turned another page.

It really is sad that I cannot simply look this man in the eye and say “I really like you, we should go out sometime.” but I guess not everything in life is as easy as standing on a platform and listing the reasons why a business should be avoided. But things are different when it’s a friend. Or when it’s something that you can’t just go out and try again. 

So what makes this so difficult, but so important? Well, he makes me laugh for starters. At the smallest of things, things I wouldn’t normally find funny. But with him, I feel like I can relax. I can open up and not be so professional all the time. He makes me feel like a normal twenty five year old man, not a “highly ambitious, intelligent, future leader”. I can just be a young man. 

I also feel things that I haven’t really felt before, or in a long time. Nervous, scared, excited, and I don’t know, this might be too much information, but aroused. Yeah, I know, too far. But it’s true. 

So, here’s hoping that tomorrow I get another chance, another face to face to tell him how I feel. All of the feelings, emotional, physical, and everything in between. And here is hoping that tomorrow, I follow through.

Grantaire couldn’t believe what he was reading. How could he compete with that? He could not bear to read the countless other pages in the binder, choosing to shove it back on the shelf instead.

“Hey R, did you get lost in there?” Bahorel called from the living room. Grantaire swallowed, trying to stay in control, but it was no use. His throat tightened and he felt tears threatening to fall. He ran past everyone in the living room and out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

The others stared as he ran past, not knowing what to make of the situation.

“What was that about?” Courfeyrac asked. 

“I don’t know.” Enjolras stood up. “I just asked him to get my green binder so we could look up the rules.” he walked into his room and suddenly it dawned on him. “Fuck. Shit.” he sat down on his bed. Combeferre walked in. 

“What? Did you leave something embarrassing out? I didn’t think you had anything embarrassing.” 

“Not exactly. You remember how you and Courf told me to practice talking to him by writing speeches? I forgot that they were also in a green binder. And I never specifically said his name in any of them. Either he figured it out and wants nothing to do with me, or he thinks I was talking about someone else.” Enjolras ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

“Go after him. Now’s your chance to set it straight. Either find out he’s not interested and we can go from there, or let him know that you were talking about him and you guys can spend the rest of the night cuddling.” Combeferre said gently. 

Text to R: Hey what was that about?

Text to Jehan: Going home. Enj has a love interest that isn’t me. Need to be alone.

Text to R: How do you know it isn’t you? Who is it?

Text to Jehan: I don’t know who it is. But he’s “Funny, intelligent, wonderful, life changing, creative, and charming.” Obviously not me.

Text to R: You don’t know that. You are all of those things and more. Come back please :(

Text to Jehan: I’m going home if you need me.

Jehan walked over to Enjolras’ room. “R went home, if you want to go after him. Which I would suggest you do.” Jehan showed Enjolras the text messages. Enjolras’ eyes widened and he quickly pulled on shoes and ran out the door.

“Don’t trash my apartment!” he called behind him, barely getting the door closed.

Grantaire collapsed onto his couch, the tears he had been holding back flowing freely. He should have seen this coming. Why would Enjolras be into him? All they did was argue. They couldn’t agree on anything. Of course he found someone better. Why would Grantaire ever be the one Enjolras felt so head over heals about? He curled in on himself and sobbed, hugging his knees and burying his face into the pillow. There was a knock at the door and Grantaire groaned.

“Go away. What ever it is I want nothing to do with it.” he yelled at the door.

“Can I come in?” Enjolras asked, voice barely audible through the door. Grantaire sighed and debated ignoring him, but he pulled himself up, wiped his eyes, and answered the door.

“What do you want?” he asked, hoping he didn’t look as bad as he felt.

“To apologize. To set the record straight. To make sure you’re okay.” Enjolras said. Grantaire stepped aside and let him in. 

“So, why has the great Apollo brought himself here, of all places?”

Enjolras looked at him, suppressing a whine at how upset Grantaire looked. 

“Well, I’m assuming you read the wrong binder. And I wanted to tell you that I should have just told you from the beginning, but, I was scared.”

Grantaire scoffed. “Right. You don’t get scared. Why are you telling me this? Shouldn’t you be telling the person you wrote about?”

Enjolras shifted, taking a deep breath and looked up at Grantaire. “I am. I am telling the person I wrote about.”

“Right. I don’t need you to lie to me to make me feel better, Enjolras. I’ll get over it.”

“I’m not lying!” Enjolras almost shouted. “Why is it so hard to believe that you’ve had an effect on me? That I might just be human and have feelings too?”

Grantaire stared at him. “Why would you like me? I’m a cynical drunk who disagrees with everything you say.”

“I thought you read everything.” Enjolras shuffled his feet. “If you don’t like me just say so.” he mumbled. 

Grantaire stared at him. “Don’t like you? Are you kidding? After all that you think I don’t like you?”

“I hope not. I just don’t understand why you don’t believe me.”

“Do you remember how you treated me?”

“Yes! And if you remember, I apologized! Several times!”

Grantaire’s eyes widened. He had faint memories, but they were only snippets that survived a drunken haze. 

“You did, I just....” he sat down on the couch, resting his head in his hands. Enjolras sat by him. 

“But I’ll apologize again. I’ll apologize every day if it’ll make things better. I want to be with you, Grantaire. If that’s what you want.”

Grantaire didn’t answer at first. Enjolras waited nervously.

“So does this mean I get to kiss you now?” Grantaire asked, looking at him.

Enjolras grinned and beat him to it.


End file.
